Tell Me A Story
by The Never Scribe
Summary: A prequel to 'To Conquer a Heart': before the fateful ball and the arrival of Prince Gilbert's true love at the castle, another love story was already in the works.


**DISCLAIMER: Most characters are from Hetalia, which is written by Hidekaz Himaruya. I do not own them. This story ties to one of my others, To Conquer a Heart, which is based on Beauty and the Beast, which belongs to Disney. Once again, I own nothing. All rights and credits go to them.**

Francis couldn't sleep. It was only his second week alone in this castle, and his bed felt empty without the warmth of _Maman_. He tossed and turned, and snuggled up to her old pillow. _Maman_ 's dress was softer than this. He curled into it anyway. _It smells like her, though. Cinnamon…_

It didn't help. An hour later, Francis was just as awake as before. He sighed, burying his face in the pillow. He forced himself to keep his eyes closed, hoping it would work, when suddenly, he heard soft footsteps in the corridor.

 _Hmm? But no one walks around the castle at night. We're not allowed to!_

The footsteps faded, but Francis' curiosity, peaked, did not. Quietly, he crept out of bed and opened the door silently just in time to catch a glimpse of a faded green cloak disappear around the corner to the kitchen. Francis tiptoed after it, intrigued by the mysterious figure.

It entered the kitchen, and Francis slipped in after it. By now, doubt was beginning to creep up on him. _What if it's a robber? Or a murderer? Or one of the superiors, and they catch me?!_ Putain _, what was I thinking?_

He stopped short, staring in shock at the figure, who he had caught in the middle of reaching into a shelf.

It was a boy, perhaps seven years old, only two or so years younger than him. Francis could hardly call him a boy; he was a scrap of a thing. His loose clothes hung on his too-skinny figure. They were ripped and clumsily darned – Francis could see the outline of ribs underneath them and he stifled a gasp. Perhaps the most startling feature of his, though, had been his wide, terrified green eyes, staring at Francis in horror as if he had seen a monster.

The boy spoke first. "G-go away," he stuttered, clenching his fists threateningly. "I'll- I'll hit you! I will!" His voice cracked on the last sentence and Francis' heart instantly went out to him. He offered the boy a soft smile, only earning a glare. "What are you, dumb? Get out of here! A-and don't you dare tell anyone you saw me!"

 _Maman_ 's voice played in his head. 'We must always be kind to each other in this castle, _mon petit_. All we have is each other, after all.'

"There's bread and cheese in that cupboard," Francis told him, ignoring the boy's angry orders.

He froze, seemingly startled by Francis' response. "I- what?"

"There's bread and cheese in that cupboard," he repeated. "And I can get you some milk if you want. Since it's winter it won't have gone sour yet."

The boy's expression shifted from surprised to suspicious. "…fine." He turned his back on Francis, rooting through the cupboard he had pointed at earlier. Francis smiled to himself as he found a little bottle of milk that smelled alright and brought it over to the boy, who was now hungrily staring at half a baguette in wonder.

Francis held out the milk for him to take. "Here," he offered. "It's for you. You must be really hungry." He nodded at the baguette. "That goes really well with brie, hold on." He rummaged around in the cupboard and pried off a chunk of brie with his fingers, smearing it on the baguette. He smiled at the boy. " _Bon appetit_!"

The boy didn't seem to know what to think of the kind act. He took a hesitant bite of the brie-covered baguette and his eyes widened in amazement. "This… this is delicious! T-thank you," he mumbled, taking another ravenous bite of the baguette.

The roll was gone in no time, to Francis' amusement. "So, what's your name?" he asked, curious about the strange boy.

His expression became guarded once more, glaring suspiciously up at him from under dirty blonde hair. "Arthur. Arthur Kirkland."

" _Enchante_ , Arthur. My name is Francis Bonnefoy," he told him proudly. "I'm a chef! Well, not yet, but I will be. I can cook, though. _Maman_ taught me how."

"I'm going to be a wizard," Arthur told him proudly. "The most powerful one there is! Or maybe a butler. The scullery maids say that the butlers get treated really well here."

Francis giggled at the boy's dream. "Do you steal food often?" he asked curiously. Recently, food _had_ been going missing. Odd little things, like scraps of meat or fish. The other chefs and maids had assumed there was a rat of some sort and laid out poison.

Arthur glared at him. "It's not stealing if you have to do it!"

"Don't they give you food?" Francis asked in worry and disbelief.

"Well… they do, but the maids take it away. They say that they deserve more because they do more work, but that's poppycock! I'm the one who works!" Arthur hugged his knees to himself, glowering at the floor. "Petticoated thieves…"

Francis shook his head in sympathy. He himself had never had to deal with anything of the sort – he had plenty of access to food, and plenty of people willing to give it to him. "You know what, Arthur?" he told him. "From now on, you should meet me in the kitchen. I can give you good food, or save you something from when the chefs cook! You won't have to steal anymore!"

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Won't you be stealing?"

Francis waved a hand dismissively. " _Ah bah bah_ , it doesn't matter. I work here, I can take as much food as I want... sort of."

Arthur's lips quirked in a tentative smile. "Okay." He wrinkled his nose before letting out a massive yawn and blinking sleepily.

Francis grinned, reaching over to pinch the little boy's cheek. "Has anyone ever told you how adorable you are, Arthur? You look just like a little bunny."

"Has anyone ever told you how girly you are, Francis?" retorted Arthur, smacking his hand away grumpily. "You look just like a little princess. Seriously, why are you wearing a dress?"

Francis sniffed haughtily. "It is a robe, and it looks _magnifique_. You have no taste."

"Says the one wearing a _dress_."

"Shut up!"

 **Hey guys!**

 **Le gasp! Are we unlocking the backstory of our lovable clock and candelabrum from To Conquer a Heart? Yes. Yes we are. Enjoy!**

 **\- Cass**

 **(Please note that this isn't serious writing - I'm just writing this for fun, so it'll probably be super short and terrible quality.)**


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